Taking Leave
by Pinerug
Summary: The day Molly and Smurf leave for R&R, alternating between Molly and Captain James' point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Characters and dialogue from Our Girl are the property of Tony Grounds and BBC.**

* * *

><p>The sun is filtering through the mesh windows of the tent. It's not that hot yet. Behind the curtain the lads put round my bunk I can hear sounds of life. Snorts, snuffles and other noises it's best not to think about.<p>

"Oi, Molls, you awake yet?" from Smurf.

"Yeah, what is it"

"It's R&R day, when you and I get to spend 14 hours on a plane together. Have you given any more thought to my offer of the mile high club?"

"Like you'd last 14 hours, 2 minutes more like"

A chorus of laughs, whistles and "good one Molls!" "Rinsed you good and proper" explodes from behind the screen.

I don't really know if I'm handling this Smurf thing right. I like him, he's a good mate, but he had his chance. He seems to think that he's going to charm my knickers off again, which ain't happening. Being around these blokes has shown me that most of it's a front. They act all tough but something like a girl rejecting them really hurts them. Baz had a girlfriend at the start of the tour. Just before Christmas he got a letter saying she had got a new bloke cos she couldn't handle him being away. He was strutting around saying good riddance and calling her a slapper, but next day he was in my med tent, crying on my shoulder saying he loved her and what would he do without her.

I need to tread carefully with Smurf. I value his friendship, I really do. How do I make it clear to him that friendship is all I want? I don't want to hurt him. He's been so keen to 'be there for me' since he got back, but he seems to think that means being my boyfriend. I know we shagged once, but that's never going to happen again, boyfriend is not an option. I hope for his sake he's just laying it on for the lads. Maybe he'll get laid when he's back in Newport and get it out of his system. Then I won't have to think about this stuff.

It's time to get up, finish packing. Today Smurf and I are off on our mid-tour R&R. It will be great to see mum and all the others, but weird to leave everyone behind at the FOB. What if something happens when we're away? What if Bashira's Dad comes back? I don't like the idea of the lads getting into trouble while we're off sitting in a pub somewhere killing time. We stick together out here. Going off home for 2 weeks is nuts.

The lads head to the showers, leaving me some privacy to get dressed. I chuck on a clean t shirt and shorts, grab my box of coco pops and head to the mess for breakfast.

* * *

><p>I've been up for an hour or so, dressed and ready for the day when I hear some commotion. Sounds like 2 section's tent. I hear shouts of "good one Molly" and smile to myself. Dawes is clearly holding her own with this bunch.<p>

I rub my eyes, I've been staring into the gloom of the green canvas too long. Preparing myself for the day ahead. The day Molly leaves. With Smurf of all people. We will all feel her absence, she's a good medic, a crucial part of the team. She knows the area, she has a good rapport with the Afghan forces. Who am I kidding? I'm going to miss her. The idea of 2 weeks here without her is something I've avoided thinking about. Two weeks without listening to her mangling the English language, her beautiful green eyes, her brown hair falling over her shoulders, her ridiculously tiny shorts, her beaming smile, the delicate smell of her that lingers in the med tent, swirling around me as she treats my blisters. I'm a bloody fool. Only a few more hours to get through. I need to get past this. This infatuation. It can only be an infatuation. Being on tour is like a pressure cooker. Life is condensed. Feelings flare up, hopefully they will diminish and I can get some perspective when I no longer see her every day.

I make my way to the mess for some breakfast. Dawes walks past, head in her bowl of cereal. She stops as Sohail passes her, and they glare at each other. I wonder what that's about? She sits and I sneak up behind her. I feel like a prep school boy. Leaning over I quickly dip my spoon in her bowl.

"Oi!" she yells. I can't help sniggering. She's like some little girl guarding her sweets.

"Sorry boss, I thought you were Sohail". Seriously? I can't imagine Sohail would go anywhere near Dawes, let alone her coco pops."You wouldn't share your breakfast with Sohail" I say in mock indignation. She cracks on about not letting him dip his spoon in her bowl. I can't help but laugh. I don't know whether she's caught the double meaning to what she said. It's too good an opportunity to pass up. "I take it that's not a euphemism" I say, teasing her more.

I can't stop myself. I'm like some poor lovesick boy, tease, retreat, tease, retreat. Anything rather than stick my neck out and make my feelings clear, or as clear as army protocol will allow. I envy those around her, their free and easy friendships, they don't need to hold back and preserve rank. This teasing, my seeking Dawes out for a spot of banter, or some quiet time in the privacy of the med tent has become a part of my life here. I find I want it more and more, I can relax with her. I want to spend time with her, I find I'm making up reasons to do so. I need some damn perspective.

"I haven't had coco pops in bloody ages" I say, going in for another spoonful, Dawes laughs, watching me make a mess of something as simple as putting a spoon to my mouth. It's lamentable, even by my standards, which are pretty rubbish. I've never been that good at flirting. Well not without a few pints under my belt.

Dawes must be taking pity on me, if any of the others tried this on she would have read them the riot act. Maybe it's because I'm her CO; she isn't in the habit of tolerating this sort of thing from the lads. Over last few months I've seen her make short work of a couple of the troops who have taken a shine to her.

"Captain James" shouts Azizi from the ops tent.

* * *

><p>Was he just flirting with me? He was, I'm sure of it. Normally I only feel like this after I've treated his blisters. I mean those boots have been well worn in for weeks now. At first I thought he was just coming to see me so we could discuss the platoon stuff in private. I know some COs like to have formal briefings with the company medic, but bossman doesn't really do formal. Over the weeks the medical grounds for his visits have been a bit flimsy, and we don't talk about the lads much either. I know if I have any concerns that I can go to him anyway. But he seems to just like to talk, or to listen to me talk more like it.<p>

But this, he's never behaved like that outside the med tent. Yeah, he'll get involved in some of the banter around the FOB and when we're on a patrol, but those smiles, that coming so close to me, that happens out of sight of the others.

Before I know what's happening he's called away to the ops tent. It must be serious, there's a helicopter landing outside the FOB which can only mean the ASF. Eggy is called out of the showers, he turns back telling 2 section to get ready, full kit. Looks like we're off.


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently there's been no word from the mountain CP this morning. We all know this could be serious. They wouldn't fly in the ASF if this was just a radio problem. It could be green in green, or maybe a Taliban contact. We make our way there quickly and quietly, there's little of the usual banter. The captain is up front with Azizi and the ASF commander, he's wrapped his face in a shemagh, in case anyone recognises him.

We wade up through the stream, which cools our feet, but the stones are slippery and it's hard on your ankles when you add a full Bergen to the mix. There's no sound or sign of life as we approach the path up to the CP. The tension is building, none of us knows what will happen. We stay below to cover the afghan forces. I'm getting spooked by the quiet. I can't help but think of the warning Bashira gave us about the mountains.

There's so much cover, it's criss crossed by paths, Qaseem says there's leopards up here, prowling at night. He says that the mountains are the Afgan's secret weapon, no one has been able to control them, so no one has ever been able to control Afghanistan. He's a bit proud of it I think. He's a great bloke, but the stories he tells would put Nan's stories of the Blitz to shame. Not that she was in the blitz mind you, but the way she talks you would think she was.

There's a noise overhead. The ASF are shouting for a medic. I'm ready to go, it looks like we can rule out an ambush then.

* * *

><p>It's times like this that I'm proud if my soldiers. They're like a well oiled machine. Each knows their place and they slip into their roles effortlessly. Dangles takes point, with Dawes behind, the rest of us follow providing cover. We're at the CP in a matter of minutes, a trip that would have left this lot gasping for air just a few months ago. The look on Azizi's face as we reach the CP tells me all I need to know. Bodies lie by the entrance, dried blood pooled in the ground, the flies already buzzing around them. I quickly count four, all of the troops stationed here last night are dead. I'm immediately thinking through the options; an argument or grudge? An assassination by the Taliban? We've already ruled out direct contact, someone would have radioed it in at the time. Whoever did this was known to the soldiers or caught them unawares. Poor Azizi, so much effort gone overnight.<p>

Dawes is holding back, I can see she's struggling to comprehend what's happened here. She's a good soldier, sometimes I forget this is her first tour. Before I can step in Qaseem gently but firmly reminds Dawes that as the medic she must confirm death. He's a good man and I'm glad he's taken charge here. Given the circumstances my involvement would be inappropriate and patronising to her professionalism. Qaseem is well placed to remind her of her duties, he's a friend and also outside of the structures of the Army. Molly respects him and they have a good rapport. He's been very supportive of her since the incident with Bashira. It's been a privilege to see their friendship develop, I'll often come across them sitting together in the mess him teaching her Pashto, her teaching him cockney. Hearing Qaseem come out with Cockney rhyming slang must count as one of the more surreal moments of my life.

Molly walks over to the bodies and starts to check for vital signs. I can see she's shaken, the young recruit, the one she calls Rolex Boy is amongst them. This will be hard on Dawes. The first time you see a dead comrade is always difficult. Molly has thrown herself into life here so wholeheartedly that this was almost inevitable, but I still wish she didn't have to go through it. At least she'll soon be out of here, maybe being home with her family will help.

Once she has checked all the bodies 2 section stand down, providing cover while the Afghan forces check over the scene and move the bodies. I work with Azizi to ensure replacement personnel remain at the checkpoint and to alert the FOB of our return. Azizi is a very competent soldier, I'm sure this has been crucial to the relatively easy time we've had on this tour. There's still some points of concern amongst his company, but on the whole they are a promising bunch. This incident has the possibility to extend our stay at the FOB a while longer, it will all depend on finding out what happened here and the quality of any replacements.

* * *

><p>Smurf looks freaked out. He's jumpy and trying to calm his nerves with a fag. Like that's going to help. How anyone can smoke with all this dust and shit in their lungs is beyond me. He must be up to 40 a day now. He needs to cut down and chill the fuck out. Nerves can be infectious. If he don't calm down soon the whole section will be a jumble of nerves and stress. Jumpy soldiers and guns are not a good mix.<p>

What if this was green on green? Everyone will be worried about that. They'll worry about our safety back at the FOB. If one of the Afghans did this to their own then they wouldn't think twice about doing the same to us. My money would be on Sohail, he's well dodgy. Always glaring at us, whispering away. My Pashto isn't up to much, but I catch the gist of some stuff. He doesn't like having women in the army that's for sure.

Smurf is wondering if our leave will still happen. If anyone needs to get away from here it's Smurf. Mind you, right now all I feel like is a cuppa and a cuddle from my mum. I still don't know if I want to leave the lads here though, especially now. God, Rolex boy must have had a mum. She's gonna be getting a visit or call from someone soon. That poor lady. She's going about her day, having tea, cooking dinner, doing whatever she does and bam, everything is going to change. Will she see him before they bury him? I hope not, I hope she doesn't get to see that some bastard shot him in the back. I hope he went quickly. I hope he didn't suffer for hours, the life slowly trickling from him. One more angry grieving family. This country has created too many of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ahh, Rosabaya… Actually I can't endorse the product placement of Nestle as I boycott them, so remember, other brands of coffee makers are available;) And those of you from mumsnet (and there seem to be quite a lot of us now), I hope you enjoy my little tribute to SPO and the peerless zomromcom.**

**As ever, Our Girl remains the property of Tony Grounds and the BBC, including any dialogue lifted directly from the script**

It's good to get out of the ops tent. The atmosphere is intense as we start on the long process of debrief and scouring our intel for clues to what happened last night at the CP. The intel boys at Bastion have been alerted and will be reviewing all recent traffic, as well as being on the outlook for anything new on the networks. Azizi seems to be holding up OK, but at a time like this he will want to be with his men, to reassure them and to start to gather himself to write home to the families of those we lost today. It's not a task I envy, nor is it one that ever gets any easier. One of those letters is one too many, four at once is harsh.

The tasks of the day still need to be attended to, and I'm happy to keep myself busy with the diversion. Dawes and Smurf's leave will go ahead, and I have confirmed the replacement medic with Bastion. Jackie will be joining us for the next two weeks, a good replacement, she's on her third tour, she's been in the field before and is experienced enough not to take any crap from this bunch. As far as they are concerned they will be getting the same professional, no nonsense treatment they've been getting with Dawes.

One section are preparing to go out on a village patrol after lunch, and I'll check in with Harris that they are all set for that. Then to hunt down Smurf and Dawes and let them know it's all still go on their leave. Jackie is being flown in at 13:00, there's time for a quick handover with Dawes before the chopper leaves for Bastion.

I can hear Smurf as I approach 2 Section's quarters. He sounds like he's holding forth on something or other, probably rubbing it in that he's off on leave, letting the lads know just how many beers he'll be drinking, and how many of Newport's women will have the pleasure of waking up next to him over the next couple of weeks.

"You know me boys, never one to plan, I like to let the dice fall where they will, but I don't see any harm in giving them a little nudge, if you know what I'm saying"

"Smurf, you're off your rocker if you think Molly is going to start something up with you over R&R, a tenner says that as soon as you're at Brize you won't see her for dust. She's going to be hitting the town and grabbing the first bloke she can before you've even made it down the M4"

"I'm telling you lads, what we had was special. She knows it, I know it. You don't get over the Smurf treatment in a hurry, if you know what I mean."

"Mate, you are deluded. I've got as much chance of copping off with Major Beck as you have of getting your leg over with Molly. You only make that kind of mistake once, and I'm pretty sure she's learnt her lesson."

Shit. I knew it. Smurf has been sniffing round Molly for weeks now. At first I thought he was just trying to make up for being such a tit and almost getting the pair of them killed, but he's a persistent little fucker, and now I know why. I didn't hear the full details at the time, but he and Dawes had some kind of encounter when she was on combat medic training. I didn't think much of it then. A knee trembler between squaddies isn't unheard of, but given how he used this against her I thought he'd given up. Getting your section to freeze out a comrade because you shagged them isn't exactly going to win you any prizes from charm school. Expecting them to shag you again is downright deluded.

But still, if it isn't going to be Smurf it could be some other undeserving bastard. I've heard some of Dawes' stories of girls nights out, and even she'll admit that she's not exactly discerning once she's got a few drinks inside her. Four dry months in Afghan is going to make her a cheap date.

But ultimately, what's it got to do with me? I can't do anything while I'm her CO. As much as I hope that she could feel something for me I can't stick my neck out and just say something.

I cough loudly outside 2 section's quarters. I shouldn't have heard that conversation, or rather, having heard it I should be having a pastoral 'chat' with Smurf to remind him about how the army feels about relationships within the platoon. Right now I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if I said anything. Besides, Dawes doesn't seem to be doing anything to encourage him, I should trust the lads, they seem unconvinced that he's likely to be successful in his pursuit of her.

I poke my head into the tent. "Private Smith. Just to let you know that your leave is on. Make sure you're packed away. Transport to Bastion leaves at 13:30."

The guys scuffle to what just about passes as attention. I think some good old fashioned drills might be in order. "Sir" comes the reply from Smurf, he looks like he wants to say something else. I nod. "Sir, is Molly cleared for leave too?" "Yes, Private Dawes as well" I respond. His grin tells me all I need to know.

* * *

><p>God I needed that shower. I mean you never really get clean out here - you shower outside and as soon as you're washed the wind blows dust over you again. Harris calls it 'afghan talc', he fancies himself as a bit of a comedian. I just wanted to get clean after touching those bodies. If we are going on leave I don't want to have to spend the next 24 hours feeling like I've got dead person all over me.<p>

I can't stop thinking about Rolex Boy. He said he was 18, but he barely looked 16. He's so young. Was so young. And then there's Bashira. I wonder where she is? I hope she's OK and is being cared for. What if all we've done is take a girl away from her family and got innocent people killed? How is that helping anyone? It's all such a bloody mess. I love being in the army, I like the lads, I like the life, well, when we aren't being shot at. I never expected to really enjoy living like this, so makeshift, living on a few things in a rucksack, sleeping in a tent. The old me couldn't imagine a life without make up and shopping, down the pub or out at a club on a Friday night. It's not like I don't still want to do those things, it's just before life was for getting through so I could do those things, now those things are great, but I don't need them like I used to.

I hear a cough. I turn and see that the bossman is standing by the entrance. He looks a bit flustered, he's shuffling his feet and looking at the ground. He seems embarrassed. He tells me that a replacement medic is on their way, and that I will be heading back on leave this afternoon. I'm so lost in my thoughts that I can't seem to concentrate on what he's saying. All I can think about is Rolex boy and Bashira.

He can tell I'm distracted and he walks into the tent me asking what's wrong. I don't have the energy to bluff my way out of things, I tell him what I've been thinking about Rolex Boy and that I still worry about Bashira. God he must be sick of me talking about her. He's trying to reassure me but he obviously doesn't know anything more about what happened to her or where she is now. I feel so responsible for how things turned out with her. I thought I was helping with hearts and minds stuff. She was such a sweet girl, I was missing Bella and I just wanted to reach out to her. Before I knew it she's getting clumped by her dad because of me, then he's trying to use his own child as a weapon against us. I don't know where she is, I can't think how I would begin to find out.

Suddenly I realise why he looked so embarrassed when he came in. I haven't got dressed after the shower. I threw on a vest and these bloody shorts the QM gave me. They didn't have anything in the right size, in the end they found something but they are so tiny they give Kylie a run for her money. I try not to wear them except in bed or if there's nothing clean to put on. I'm not wearing much more than my underwear, no wonder the bossman is looking anywhere except at me. This could be the last time I see him before we ship out, I don't want to ask him to leave to make myself presentable, chances are I wouldn't get to be here with him like this again before we leave. Honestly I'd like nothing more to sit here with him in this last hour here. To have something to see me through the next couple of weeks without him. I fiddle with my kit, toying with the idea of dressing, but that would just draw attention to the fact I'm not dressed now. In the end I just sit on the camp bed and hope he doesn't notice.

Suddenly his tone changes, and he wants to ask me a favour. I'm curious, what could someone like me do for someone like him? Ahh, his coffee machine. His pride and bloody joy. That thing weighs a ton, god only knows who he charmed to get it sent over. It's too good an opportunity to waste, I make a sly comment about how much that thing costs the taxpayer, and that the likes of me make do with a tea bag. He gives me one of his laughs, and the awkwardness over my practically being in my undies seems to disappear, we're back to where we were this morning, he's giving me one of those boyish grins. He's bloody irresistible when he looks like that.

"Now Dawes," he says "London. Nespresso shop on Regents Street." He kneels down in front of me and holds my wrist. His hands are warm, his fingers strong. "Go and buy me some Rosabaya coffee capsules and I will adore you for always" As he tells me this he writes 'Rosabaya' on my forearm with a pen. He's kneeling there, looking at me. I can barely breathe. "Always sir?" I say. Part of me is expecting this to be more of his usual banter, and I steel myself for whatever cheeky comment he's going to come out with next.

But it never comes. He stays there holding my wrist gently, and drops the pen. His hand moves to mine and he starts touching it gently, stroking the palm as I relax my hand, and then putting his fingers through mine. Time seems to stand still. He's looking at our hands, clasped together, moving his fingers slowly through mine, back and forth, turning it over and continuing to gently touch it. I'm mesmerised by him. After an age he looks up at me, his eyes gentle and serious. "Come back to me" he whispers quietly, still caressing my hand. Every nerve in my body seems to be concentrated where his skin touches mine. I can feel the smoothness of his hand, his long fingers gently moving over mine. "I will, don't worry" I reply. It takes every ounce of concentration I have to form the words. He keeps holding my hand, looking at our hands together, then up at me. I'm frozen in the moment, I can't move, worried that if I do or say anything then the bubble will burst and this will all be over.

"Oi bossman!" someone shouts, and he drops my hand, springing to his feet like a scalded cat. A worried look quickly passes over his face and then he's back in Captain mode. "Hand over with the temp medic and get your kit packed away" he says, and then he's gone. I stand in the med tent, alone trying to work out if that really just happened. I can't believe it, but looking down at my arm I see "Rosabaya" written on it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Characters and dialogue are the property of BBC and Tony Grounds**

"So, tell me that you are at least planning to go out on the pull. If they were shipping me back home for 2 weeks I'd be grabbing the first bloke I could find"

"Jacs!"

"Come off it, you're stuck out here for months on end, surrounded by all these men, and let me say some of them are very fine specimens. Doesn't it get to you? I remember my first tour, I was so horny I was practically humping furniture by the time my R&R came up. I had some bloke in the toilets of the first pub I got to. Mind you, I also got a dose of something, so make sure you play safe!"

"Jacs!" I was almost doubled over in laughter at the things she was saying. "I'm supposed to be handing over to you, can we keep this outside of my pants please?"

"Molly, this place is stocked, inventoried and recorded to within an inch of its life. I hardly need a handover, what I need is gossip. Come on tell me who to watch out for"

"Well Mansfield never remembers to put his sunblock on"

"Boring, next!"

"Micklar has a revolting habit of spunking on communal stuff, so remember to check phones and things before you use them"

"Eww, gross, but useful to know"

"You might gonna need to remind Dangles to put clothes on sometimes. He's fond of letting it all hang out"

"Oh, that _is_ interesting."

"Jackie" I say putting on my best Sergeant voice "I expect you to uphold the professional standards of the Royal Army Medical Corps at all times." She grins. "Seriously, look after my boys for me. Make sure they're all in one piece when I get back"

"Of course I will Molls. Now go. Enjoy yourself, let your hair down and don't worry about us". She gives me a big hug and pushes me out of the tent.

* * *

><p>This is turning out to be a spectacularly crap day for Azizi. Not only has he lost 4 men, but when I got back to the ops tent I found out Sohail had gone AWOL.<p>

"Curiouser and curiouser" I remark.

"Indeed" says Beck. "I can't say it's shocking. In fact I'd have put money on it. It does however put us on a heightened state of alert. If he has defected then he knows rather more about our operation than I'm comfortable with. We shall have to be on our toes. Has there been any progress on intel?"

"A bit more traffic than usual 2 days ago, and then all quiet. Content is still being reviewed. Looks like it could have been an assassination rather than direct contact, but without more information we can still rule in green on green sir."

"Well, I suppose the fact he was at the FOB last night and this morning counts in his favour. Are the ASF also pursuing the possibility that this could be abduction?"

"I believe so, I will check in with Azizi after the transport leaves. Shall we update at 14:00?"

"Agreed. All square with the replacement medic….Hayes is it?"

"Dawes is handing over as we speak sir. She and Smith all set to leave at 13:30."

"Good. Oh and James, you might want to keep the Sohail thing on the quiet until they've gone. I expect Dawes will take it into her head to want to stay to look after us all if she finds out. That girl needs her R&R, see she gets on that chopper, is that understood?"

"Sir"

My god, that Beck is a sly one. He wanders around with such an air of nonchalance but nothing escapes his notice. Perhaps I should be more circumspect with Dawes. The man is obviously aware of a great deal more than I've given him credit for.

* * *

><p>Well this is it then. We're off. Smurf looks like all his Christmases have come at once. He's practically bouncing off the walls with glee. The lads have obviously mistaken us for Father bleeding Christmas too. Requests for everything from Marmite to toothpaste come flooding in. Haven't these people ever heard of asking their families to send them stuff? I've auctioned off my coco pops to the highest bidder. Nude Nut will be cleaning my kit for a month when we get back. Micklar asked me to bring back some porn, like he needs more, the filthy bugger.<p>

The captain is waiting by the gates to see us off which is a bit strange, he doesn't normally do send offs. I feel a little self conscious after what happened in the med tent. My hand tingles with the memory of it. He's in full on Captain mode, no one would guess that under that lurks a someone that holds his medic's hands and gazes into her eyes. Knowing that is like a delicious little secret. As if I'm the only person who has seen this side of him. Just knowing that he held my hand, that he looked at me like that is astounding. A flush goes through me seeing him standing at the gate.

The gate. Something's not right. Usually it's two ANA on the gate, today there's one green and one khaki uniform. Sohail was on duty today, but now it's just his mate, the one he spends all his time muttering to.

"Good luck you two" says the boss.

"Where's Sohail?" I ask.

"He's gone AWOL" My blood runs cold. The soldiers at the pass, Rolex Boy. This can't be coincidence. Where could he have gone? We all crack on about him being a dodgy geezer, but it's a joke. He's a grumpy disapproving sod but that's it. Surely that's it? He can't be Taliban. He would have done something to us by now if he was. Maybe he was just waiting, maybe now is the time. I can't leave. I can't. We stick together.

Smurf has already passed judgement it seems, and so have the lads. They all think he's gone over to them. Eggy and the boss are trying to tell the lads to zip it and not jump to conclusions. Smurf is running his mouth off about the shooting at the pass and the boss gives him this funny look "We are not wholly bad or good…" he says, and that seems to shut Smurf up.

Sohail's mate on the gate says something about the helicopter, they open the gate and the boss tells us to go. Whatever Smurf was saying 30 seconds ago is out of his mind, he's out of here without looking back. I feel sick. I'm afraid I might cry. I force myself out of the gate, one foot in front of the next but I can't go on. Ahead of me is the helicopter and beyond it the mountains. We're sitting ducks. I never realised until right now quite how vulnerable we are. My feet stop moving. I can taste the vomit rising in my throat and tears start to prick my eyes. A cold feeling of panic comes over me as I turn back to the FOB. "If Sohail's gone AWOL then something might happen".

* * *

><p>Bollocks. I was worried this would happen. Beck's words ring in my ears 'see she gets on that chopper'. She's stopped just outside the inner gate and turned back towards us. Her eyes looked panicked and she's gone pale.<p>

I make my way towards her. She won't want to have this conversation in earshot of the lads. "Go" I tell her. Short and simple. I'm barely half a step away from her. She looks so young and fragile. This close to her I can see her eyes, filling with tears and full of panic. I can tell she's struggling to rein herself in.

"You might gonna need a medic"

"We might gonna already got one" I was expecting that one. "Well she ain't me". God, that's true. "Dawes" I wish I could call her Molly, that I could reach out and reassure her, all I can do is look at her. Her eyes are pleading with me, she wants to stay, she's worried about leaving us all behind in this situation. I dread to think what I must look like, thank god the lads are behind me. I try my hardest to show how I'm feeling. That I don't want her to go either. Now I've let my guard down a little and shown her that there's more to me, that I want there to be an us I don't want to let her out of my sight. Once she's gone all I have is hope and trust. That the chopper gets to Bastion without incident, that the plane she gets on stays in the air, that some idiot taxi driver gets her home ok, that she doesn't walk in front of a bus, that lady luck stays with her for the next 2 weeks and that she will be delivered back here, back to me where I can keep her safe.

"I can't go" she says, her eyes filling with tears.

In the end there's nothing for it, I have to order her to go. I try and lighten it with comment about the coffee, hoping she'll understand. With one last look at me she finally turns and runs towards the chopper, her petite frame looking all the more small and vulnerable against the wide plain and the waiting transport. She climbs aboard and she clips herself in. Her face is barely visible at this distance, but I can see she's looking back at us. The crew are eager to be off and were obviously just waiting for Molly to get on board. The helicopter lifts, kicking dust into the air, briefly obscuring my view of her. Then just as it clears the chopper turns and climbs, making its way towards the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N So this is the end. Thank you for all you reviews which are very much appreciated. Thank you also to Tony Grounds and the BBC for these lovely characters and for all of you who have allowed me to play around with them.**

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><p>Who on earth thinks we want to eat a roast dinner in this heat? The mess is already hotter than satan's bollocks without having to sit over a steaming plate of roast potatoes and gravy. I can't say I have much of an appetite anyway. I push my food around the plate hoping that either it will cool down or I'll get hungry.<p>

The day is far from over. There's still the mail to distribute, we're expecting more intel reports down from Bastion and I need to check in with all my Corporals. The lads seem in high spirits, Jackie certainly isn't lacking in attention. She's sitting between Fingers and Dangles who appear to be doing their best to make her welcome. I'm sure she can handle them, but I should check in with her as well to make sure she's settling in.

We've had a long afternoon in the ops tent. Azizi had a bit more news on the Sohail situation. He never returned after the midday patrol to the village. Harris only realised he was missing after they had returned so we have been tracing over the route the patrol took and 3 section went over it again at afternoon patrol. We couldn't see anything untoward, but we're keeping an eye on the networks. So far there seems to be little to go on. Azizi has been interviewing all his troops individually this afternoon and looks wrung out.

Qaseem takes the seat next to me, and sits with a long sigh.

"In all my years studying the English and living with them I have never understood one thing. Your food."

I smile at him. "It makes sense when you're in England, trust me"

"Do you miss it?" he asks

"I miss my family" I reply. "But after a while this becomes your family too. When you are away from this it feels like something is missing, and when you are here working families can be put out of your mind. Its when the working stops that it becomes hard"

"Ah yes. That I understand" A look of such sadness comes over him, and then as quickly as it came it is gone again. I cannot imagine what Qaseem must go through every day. Sometimes his sadness seems to haunt him, other times you wouldn't suspect a thing.

"And when the army family is not together, this is hard to?" I nod. I have spent all afternoon trying not to think about that. "This place does not feel the same without Molly Dawes" he reflects. "Too quiet for a start. She is, how do you say, good china?" I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about and it must show on my face.

"Is this not right? China plate. Mate? I am sure this is what she told me."

I break out into laughter. "Qaseem, you are asking the wrong person. Half of what Dawes says goes over my head. But yes, I think China is the right expression. She will be back soon, and goodness only knows what she will teach you then."

He smiles and nods, then raises his chai in a silent toast.

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><p>Its going to be a long journey. Smurf is sticking to me like glue and has managed to bag a seat next to me on the transport home. Luckily the chopper ride to Bastion was too noisy for talking so I took the time to try and pull myself together after leaving the FOB. I can't shake the worry about leaving them now that Sohail is gone. I need to put a brave face on for the next few hours until I can have some time to myself. Right now the thought of a deep hot bath back at home is what is keeping me going.<p>

I'm trying not to think about today until then. But no matter how much I try it seeps in through the cracks, and before I know it I'm thinking about his face, thinking back on all the times he's looked at me today. This morning's giggle over a bowl of coco pops seems like a lifetime ago. Leaving the FOB, leaving him was so hard. I was scared I was going to puke every step of the way. The only thing I can hold on to was that he didn't look at me like a man who was happy to see me go. But he's army through and through, I expect if you cut him his blood would come out khaki. I got on that chopper and looked back. I could see him waiting at the gate and my heart felt so heavy. Looking down on the compound it was so small. A huddle of tents surrounded by a wall of sand. How could something so tiny, so temporary contain everything I wanted? A little speck on a plain, how could that be my world?

'Come back to me' he said. 'Come back to _me_'. Not us, not the section or the platoon, just him. Just four words. It's barely anything to go on, but the way he looked at me, the way he held my hand. It caught me off guard. I wish I had leaned into him, I could have kissed him, or at least touched him. I've been dying to hold him or run my fingers through his hair for months. What have I been doing all this time? If I had only known then what I know now. All that time I've been dutifully treating his blisters or administering eye drops and I was never anything other than professional.

What would have happened if I had? Would he have kissed me back? God the things I want to do to him, that I want him to do to me. No, that's not something to be thinking about here. But isn't just about getting a shag any more. I want to spend time with him, to get to know him. I'll talk about myself to anyone who'll listen, sometimes even if they don't want to listen if you ask the lads. I don't know anything about him, I don't even know his name. But I don't doubt I know him. There's a closeness I feel for him, I might not have his rank or education but when it's him and me together I don't notice the differences. There's a something between us that just clicks, that feels right. What he said and did today suggests that there is something for him too. Enough to risk him giving me a peek at any rate.

I close my eyes and try and clear my mind. Smurf is jabbering away to the bloke next to him. They are swapping stories of some Corporal they both had at basic. I wish I had remembered to pack my headphones, right now I could do with drowning them out. I try to concentrate on the drone of the plane, and the feeling of the hum of the engines as my mind drifts away.

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><p>The FOB is winding down now, most are heading to their beds. Usually this is the best part of the day. A time to let go of the bustle of life and reflect. I've been trying my hardest to avoid this moment. I cross over the compound towards my tent and notice that the flaps of the med tent are open. Perhaps Jackie is still in there, I should check and make sure.<p>

The med tent is empty, everything neatly in its place and organised. The moonlight pools on the ground and I catch the faintest scent of Molly's shampoo. I'm transported back to this afternoon, standing here watching her drying her hair. Her back was to me and she was in those shorts. Those things need to come with a health warning. Her arse looks bloody amazing in them. She looked stunning, strong thighs, pert little bottom, narrow waist. Her skin looked smooth and golden in the sunlight, her hair down. I try so hard to think of her just as Private Dawes, and I'm mostly failing at that, but faced with her out of uniform and looking so beautiful I was in real danger of forgetting who and where I was.

Overhearing Smurf and the rest of 2 section talking about Dawes had got me thinking. They were right, if it wasn't Smurf then someone else was going to try it on with her when she was back home. I couldn't tell her how I feel, I barely know myself, and whilst she is under my command anything like that would be wholly inappropriate. I had to find some way to keep myself in her thoughts while she was away. I've been long enough in the army to realise that sometimes it's what you don't say, and instead what you do that makes the most impact.

I had resolved to ask her a favour, nothing big, but just something inconvenient enough to mean that if she did it, I would know that she had been thinking of me, and that there may be something mutual in our feelings. I thought a trip to the other side of London for some coffee capsules might do the trick. I had gone to the tent to put in my request, and then it all went a bit off piste.

Firstly there she was dressed in very little which put me on the back foot. While I was trying to recover my equilibrium I noticed that she was distracted, inevitably upset about the ANA soldier, and Bashira, and once again doubting the efficacy of what we are doing out here. She's young and she takes so much to heart. She's obviously a very resourceful woman, but the flip side of that is that she feels such responsibility for everything that happens. An emotionally vulnerable and half naked Molly was not helping me keep to my planned course of action.

I tried to reassure her as best I could, before steering the conversation back to my original intentions, the favour. Molly was sat on the bed and I knelt down in front of her. Instead of just asking her to get the coffee I found myself holding her wrist and writing it on her arm. Once I had touched her I couldn't let go. She looked into my eyes and I was sunk. Her skin was smooth and soft, and the feeling was like a drug. Just touching her was amazing. Her hand was warm, and small, she didn't pull away. I glanced up and she was just watching our hands move across one another, she looked as disbelieving as I felt. All I wanted in that moment was to tell her that I wanted her, that I needed her to know how I felt. That I would be thinking of her every moment she was gone, that I never wanted to let her out of my sight. "Come back to me" I said, and to my surprise she replied "I will". In that moment I realised that there were things that neither of us could say, but we could just be here like this a few moments longer and that would be enough for now.

I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye "Oh….I'm sorry Sir, were you looking for something?" I look up from the patch of moonlit floor that I've been staring at to see Jackie standing at the entrance of the tent.

"Ah, Hayes." I scrabble around to think of a reason why I would be hanging around the med tent so late at night. "I, erm noticed that the tent was open, I thought you might still be here. Just checking everything is OK with you. How are you finding it?"

"Fine Sir. Seem like a good bunch of lads"

"Good, good. All set for patrol tomorrow?

"Yes sir"

She's looking at me quizzically, and I really need to get out of here before I make a bigger tit of myself.

"Erm, alright, well it's late…...I should be hitting the hay." Looking down at my feet I notice the pen I dropped earlier. "Ah, there it is" I pick up the pen in an attempt to pretend I've been here looking for it all along.

"Well, goodnight Sir"

"Goodnight"

I leave Jackie on the threshold of the tent, and head to my quarters. I need to pull myself together. Just before I turn in I look up at the sky. The night is clear and the stars sweep across the sky. I suddenly feel very alone. It's going to be a long 14 days.

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><p>A naked couple lie on the small camp bed in the med tent, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. A patch of moonlight illuminates their bodies, damp with sweat. Smooth pale skin entwined with long tanned limbs. His hands tenderly stroke up her thighs as he burrows his head in the crook of her neck and nuzzles her ear. She giggles, a sound that makes his heart soar.<p>

His hands roam higher, skimming over her hips, caressing her bum and up her back.

"God I've missed you. When I saw you get off that chopper I could hardly control myself. You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you"

"Me too, but we promised to keep this quiet. Just until the end of the tour. As soon as we're home we'll go public. It's not long now. Anyway, this illicit stuff is sort of fun."

"How can seeing you every day and not being able to touch you be fun?"

"You're touching me now aren't you?" She looks into his brown eyes, his brow furrowed slightly with worry. Reaching up she smoothes it with her hand and raises her lips to his in a soft lingering kiss.

"That was a close one. I thought he was you. I could have given us away"

"What was he doing here anyway?"

"I don't know, he seemed like he was miles away. He said he was just checking in, making sure everything was ok."

"At this time of night? I hope he doesn't make a habit of sneaking around at all hours."

"You worry too much"

"Its our careers. It's such a risk."

"Hush" She silences him with another kiss, her hands moving up the taut muscles of his back. The kiss deepens as their hands move over each other's bodies. "Turn over" she whispers "let me up"

She bends her head to kiss his smooth chest as he lies back on the narrow bed. Moving to straddle him her long hair falls around her shoulders. His hands move to her breasts, his thumbs skimming over her pert nipples.

"Ready for round two Mrs Dangleberries?"

"That's Lance Corporal Dangleberries to you darling" Jackie replies with a wink.


End file.
